


The Art of Escapism

by ximeria



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Military Experiments, Mutant Suppression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:03:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik Lehnsherr, better known as Magneto, master of magnetism, leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants, wakes up in a strange house with an even stranger man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Escapism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aelimir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelimir/gifts).



> This is an AU, not following the film at all. Veers off years before the film's main plot. Prompt/request/wish is included after the story.
> 
> Thanks to: misswitch89 (LJ) for her thorough beta.

Erik opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, staring up at the canopy of a large bed. A large and extremely comfortable bed. He sat up and looked around. The room itself was... lavish. Dark wooden panels, large windows with heavy curtains. It was the kind of room that gave off an air of old money and old world.

The curtains had not been drawn, letting the early morning sunshine in through the clear glass. Beyond the windows Erik could see a large grassy field, lined by trees as far as the eye could see.

Rubbing his eyes, Erik wondered where he was. It was not a place he recognized, and by default that alone should have set his teeth on edge. Yet it did not. If anything, the room lent him a sense of calm and security that was unlike anything he could think of. Not to mention that he felt the tug of curiosity, an urge to explore.

Pushing the sheets off, he shivered. It made little sense as the room was more than warm enough, but he still could not quite shake the cold feeling from his bones. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he swung his legs over the edge and stared down as he set his feet on the floor. Digging his toes in, he enjoyed the feel of the soft, plush rug. Erik looked to the side, noticing a chair with a pile of folded clothes on it. Unfolding the pieces, he ran his hand over the dark turtleneck. It was nothing fancy, but it was good quality, both the shirt, the underwear and the matching dark slacks were. Leaning forward, he found a pair of nice leather shoes underneath the chair.

They were not his clothes, but even that caused him no unease. He got dressed, looked back at the room and then pulled the door open with a flick of his wrist.

Stepping out into a hallway, Erik stopped for a moment. It matched the room he had just left very well; it had that same feel to it, the same dark wooden panels. Looking up, he stared at the old-fashioned paintings that hung on the walls. On either side, as he started to walk forward, he passed one painting after another, all of stern looking people. It felt almost as if their eyes were following him.

He came to a set of wide stairs that led him down to the ground floor and a large hallway. Opening a few doors, he found the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he unerringly found the coffee machine containing what turned out to be freshly brewed coffee.

Good coffee, too.

Taking a sip of it, he looked around. An old fashioned, big kitchen that fit very well with the rest of the house, from what he had seen so far. With a deep breath and an odd feeling of content, Erik went back out into the main hall at the foot of the stairs. Just to the right, he could see a door, partly open and from what he could see, it looked like a library.

Erik stopped for a moment, trying to figure out what it was about that specific door that seemed to draw him towards it. Like the room he had woken up in, this one felt like safe ground, like it was offering him respite from anything might be troubling him. Instead of worrying him, the feeling only heightened his curiosity and Erik stepped forward to push the door fully open, then stopped.

The room was... impressive, to say the least. Row upon row of books, shelves crammed full of them.

"Hello."

Erik nearly dropped his cup, cursing under his breath as the hot coffee sloshed over the rim onto his bare skin. He had completely missed that he was not alone.

"How nice to meet you," a young man said, rising to his feet gracefully, from where he had been seated by the window.

Erik stared at him. He was shorter than Erik, the boyish features made Erik think that he was a few years younger as well.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me," the man said, eyes clear and blue and his smile soft and sincere. "I'm Charles Xavier." He held out a hand for Erik to shake.

Erik shifted the cup from his right hand to his left and dried it off on his shirt before reaching out to take the proffered hand. "Erik Lehnsherr," he said.

"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Lehnsherr," Charles said, turning Erik's hand in his grip, tutting at the slightly reddish skin where the hot coffee had hit. "I'm sorry, I startled you."

"That's... quite alright," Erik said, staring at Charles. It was so odd. He was sure he normally would not be this at ease with a stranger in a strange place.

Yet... he was.

"Please, sit," Charles said, finally letting go of Erik's hand and gesturing to the seat across from the one he had occupied himself.

Erik took the seat and looks down at the chess set between the two chairs.

"Do you play?" Charles asked.

"Not often, but I know the rules of the game," Erik replied, feeling compelled to play with him. Charles was not really a stranger now, so why not? They had made their introductions and a game of chess sounded compelling.

"I was wondering," Erik said, a few moves in. "Where am I?"

Charles looked up from where he was pondering his next move. "Westchester," Charles said. "This is..." he frowned. "This is where I grew up."

"And you live here alone?" Erik watched him move his rook.

"I... must be?" Charles gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I seem to recall living here with other people - it's so quiet here right now, though... it's normally not, I think."

"I don't know, I'm the one not knowing where or why I'm even here," Erik said with a small laugh.

"But I'm glad you're here," Charles said with a soft smile.

"I'm... pretty glad to be here, too," Erik said, finding he actually meant it. He had not had time to sit down and just relax for ages. The Brotherhood's business always came first. And there was always business to take care of.

The game became another one, and another one. Late in the afternoon, though, they had exhausted their conversational material on bland every day topics, movies and music.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Erik asked as he set the game up again.

"I study genetics and biochemistry," Charles told him. "I'm also pretty sure I teach it," he continued with a small laugh. "I'm not sure."

"And I don't know how I got here," Erik replied with a soft smile. "I should be worried that I'm not worried, right?"

Charles nodded. "Probably, yes."

"So, genetics?" Erik prompted, making the opening move.

"Mutations," Charles said. "My studies show that humans are evolving into something new - the next step of evolution," he continued.

His eyes shone with a light and enthusiasm that took Erik's breath away.

\--

Erik opened his eye. He blinked a couple of times, staring up at the dark, dank ceiling. The mattress underneath him was lumpy and uncomfortable. He sat up and looked around. The room itself was... as he had known it for the past... he was not sure, maybe three to four weeks?

"Charles," he breathed out, but there was no answer in the small cell.

Erik shook his head. Just a dream, even if it had been... so real. He could still feel the grain of the wooden chess pieces against his fingertips and taste the lovely coffee, see Charles enthusiasm. Hear his voice.

Looking over at the door, Erik saw the food deposited right inside the slot at the bottom of the door. The noise of it would have been what had woken him up.

I'm going around the bend, Erik thought to himself.

No one ever came for him. No one asked him questions. He was pretty sure they were afraid of him and currently that was probably why he wasn't dragged out of the cell and tortured like some of the others. He could hear the screams. Every once in a while. Or maybe they just kept him there to make it safer for the humans outside? He could only hope that they would make a mistake and he could get out or the Brotherhood could find him.

If they were even looking. Though Erik had to trust that Frost saw him as enough of a leader to actually give a shit.

It had been five years since they had found the strength to take Shaw down. He had ruthlessly trained them, vetted all of them, Frost, Azazel, Janos and Erik for his grand plan for almost a decade. His very insane plan. Shaw had made sense at first, had spent years preparing them to defend themselves against humans.

Erik closed his eyes. Shaw's plans... yes, it had made sense. Then Shaw had slowly gone insane, obviously more interested in power than the greater good of their kind.

Erik threw his powers at the door again, feeling the metal outside, but unable to influence it, bend it to his will. Whatever had done to his cell, it contained his powers. He could feel his abilities perfectly well, inside the room, but somewhere between the inside of the cell and the door's metal... it was like an invisible wall.

Sitting cross legged on his mattress, Erik ate the gruel that was in the wooden bowl on the tray. It was less than ideal, but it held enough nutrition to keep him alive.

The hours ticked by, and Erik lost himself for a while, ever thankful that Azazel had taught him meditation techniques one lazy summer day, a decade ago.

A lifetime it felt like, when Erik opened his eyes again. It was hard keeping track of time when the only thing that happened regularly was food. And even then Erik thought they might wary the times just to mess with him.

Whoever they were. They had gotten him alone, had hit him with something that had knocked him out and he had woken up in this very cell.

Eventually, he lay down again, relaxing enough to go to sleep. Even if Charles was somehow their doing? It still beat sitting around in a dark cell with nothing to do.

\--

"Erik!"

Erik turned around and found Charles coming down the stairs, almost with a bounce in his step.

"Do you ever dress your age?" Erik asked with a laugh. "You look like a dusty old professor."

"I am a professor, but I will have you know, I could drink you under the table," Charles replied with a small grin. "I had quite the reputation when I studied in Oxford, just ask Raven... on second hand, don't."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Raven?"

"My sister and I actually wonder where she is," Charles said, looking a little lost. "I guess she must be in town or something."

"And she's got blackmail material on you," Erik said. He was beginning to really like spending time with Charles.

"Like you wouldn't believe it," Charles said with a wink. "I've got coffee and tea in the library if you care for a game?"

"Why not?" Erik said, gesturing for Charles to lead the way.

Settling into his seat, Erik took the cup of coffee that Charles offered him.

"Have you ever given it any thought how people would perceive such mutants?" Erik asked, carefully. He had wanted to ask since Charles had told him about his studies of the mutant gene.

"I have, and I have my hopes that through education and openness, we can eventually achieve to live side by side," Charles said, making the opening move.

Erik tried to not scoff at it. "So you think people would welcome ... mutants with open arms?"

"Not without a lot of work," Charles said. "There are forces that make it difficult, like the Brotherhood, a group I've only ever heard of, but never actually seen in action. I don't think they're evil, but they tend to tear down government installations on a regular basis, they all seem to be mutants and their attacks make people fear..." Charles paused for a moment. "Fear all mutants."

"Are you one?" Erik found himself asking. On a whim, maybe spurred on by Charles' expression.

Charles cocked his head to the side. "I am."

Erik nodded. "And yet you think they'll ever accept you... us?"

Charles gave him a soft smile. "I have to believe in the best."

Erik shook his head, "Charles, you seem to be living with the misconception that everyone is good at heart."

"And you, Erik, seem to live with the misconception that everyone is bad at heart," Charles countered.

Erik gave him a stern look, one that only made Charles laugh.

"I don't think we'll ever agree on that?" Charles said, the question revealing a touch of hopefulness.

Fighting a small smile, Erik shrugged. "Probably not, but I'll never stop trying to make you see reason."

"Of course," Charles said, reaching out and putting his hand on top of Erik's giving it a quick squeeze. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

He kept his hand where it was and Erik was not going to bring his attention to it.

\--

The days where Erik was awake in the cell, staring at its grey walls began to flow together. Even more than they already had. The only thing he wanted was to get back into that dream world, because even if he did not remember his prison cell when there, he had Charles, had conversations, arguments, someone to keep him sane.

Erik rubbed his eyes and stared at the grey wall.

Sanity, he thought to himself, thy name is Charles.

But how, and more importantly, why? It seemed safe to say that Charles was a mutant, as he had said, unless of course he was a figment of Erik's imagination. Now, if Erik could just remember to ask Charles what his powers were, then maybe Erik could get a better idea of what was going on.

And that was another thing that nagged at Erik. The fact that the moment he woke up in the dream world, he lost half of his memories. All the things he wanted to ask Charles.

At least he retained his memories when he actually woke up. He was unsure how many times he had woken up at the mansion so far, but each and every time he had ended up in the library, with Charles, playing chess, talking for hours. Trying to convince Charles that he was wrong. However, where Erik would normally vehemently argue until he had worn down his opponent, with Charles... with Charles it was different.

With Charles it was intriguing conversation, a game of chess. It was not a matter of which of them won, but how they got there, the theories and strategies that mattered. Debating politics, science and philosophy with Charles was invigorating. He wanted Charles to see things his way, but he was willing, for once, to listen to the opposing views and ideals.

He found that he was actually enjoying Charles' company. In more ways than one. He had also grown to enjoy the little touches from Charles, a brush of a hand, a hand on his arm, his shoulder. Warm and encompassing.

Maybe he was losing his mind? He was losing something, that was for sure.

One of those times, in the dream world, he asked Charles if something was wrong. Because Charles looked worn out, almost stretched thin. And on more than one occasion, Erik recalled, when he woke up for real, he had thought it was as if Charles was becoming almost translucent.

One night Erik did not dream. Nothing tangible at least and definitely not the dream world he had been sharing with Charles.

The next night was the same.

Erik wandered the small cell, confined by its four walls. There had to be a reason for it. Had to be. He hammered the flat of his hand against the wall, felt it sting. Then his fist.

"Fuck," he gasped. It did not just sting, and judging from the pain he'd probably broken one of his fingers, if not two.

That was when he heard it. The dull thud of something exploding some distance away. Dust and grit floated down from the ceiling.

Erik stopped, stared upward, cradling his hand. The ceiling cracked, as did the wall next to the door.

"Whatever the fuck you're doing, don't pull this place down around my ears," he muttered, stepping up to the door to put his ear against it.

 _'We'll do what we can, sugah,'_ Emma's voice rang through his mind. _'Give us a moment and we'll have the shielding of your room switched off.'_

Erik felt the moment the shielding fell away and he ripped the door to shreds, like it was no thicker than tissue paper.

"Boss," Azazel greeted, popping into existence right outside the door. "Frost wants you in the control room ASAP."

Erik just held out a hand. He had not missed teleporting at any point as it always made him queasy, but it beat running around a government facility. When they winked into existence again, Erik wanted to tell Emma to look for Charles. If Charles was even real...

"Charles who?" Emma asked.

Erik glared at her and accepted his helmet when Azazel handed it to him. Obviously some of his people knew their priorities. The only problem was as he started slipping it on, a piercing scream tore through his mind.

Emma stared at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Lehnsherr, you've got a stowaway."

"A stow...," Erik shut his eyes and dropped the helmet to the floor. "Charles."

"Charles?" Emma stepped forward. "Want me to get him out of there?"

"No, I want you to figure out where he actually _is_ in this facility," Erik said with a growl.

Emma stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

"He's kept me sane for ...however long I've been in this damned place," Erik told her. "Now, Azazel, you and Janos," he began.

"We're already getting everyone else out of here," Azazel said. "But we burned a lot of bridges getting here - none of our safe houses are exactly safe anymore."

"Just... make sure no one gets left behind and there are no hostiles left to endanger us," Erik told them, stalking over to Emma. "Now, you, dig - find him." He held up a hand to stop her from arguing with him. "If we're lucky, he'll have a place where we can lay low." I hope, Erik added to himself.

Emma stared at him. "You're asking me to," she said, tapping the side of her head.

"Yes, it's a onetime pass into my head, Frost, so get on with it." Erik may possibly have growled, he was far too busy worrying about Charles to say anyway.

Erik braced himself for Emma entering his mind, but she was surprisingly gentle.

"It's pretty blank where your friend is," Emma said quietly. "But I think I can follow the trail."

"Do it," Erik told her, leaving his helmet behind, forgotten. If he had managed to put it on, what would it have done to Charles?

Emma led him down a hallway, further down a set of stairs. Erik noticed a guard here and there, either dead of passed out on the floor. He could not care less.

They came to a smaller room off to one side and Erik shared a look with Emma.

"No, there is no one in there," she told him. "No guards, at least," she amended.

Inside the room was a tank and at first Erik ignored it, then, as he came around the other side of it, he stopped dead. "Emma," he said quietly.

"Oh, if he's a telepath, which I think he is, judging from what I'm getting off his presence in your mind," Emma said with a wince, "than that has got to be a horrible place to be."

"A sensory deprivation tank," Erik said, voice flat.

"Without any other input, his mind must've gone walkabout," Emma replied. "Why he'd end up in a prickly place like your head, god only knows."

Erik made a face at her, but he was too worried about Charles to argue with her.

Emma went over to check the controls. "I don't think they knew he was a telepath," she said a moment later. "There are no shields of any kind in place."

"Get him out," Erik said. His whole body was shaking, rage at whoever had done this and the urge to rip the metal parts of the tank apart. But he was afraid he might hurt Charles.

Emma fiddled about with the controls but Erik stayed where he was, watching the body in the tank, surrounded by water, face encased in a mask that obviously supplied him with oxygen. Erik looked his fill though. Charles seemed so thin and pale and Erik wondered how long he had been there.

"Lehnsherr," Emma said, looking up from the controls, "I suggest you get ready to break him out, because I'm disconnecting him from everything, in five seconds."

Erik gave her a nod, found and held onto every piece of metal in the containment unit.

"5, 4, 3," Emma counted, flicking switches. "2, 1, go!"

Erik ripped the tank apart and stepped forward, bending everything away from Charles and himself, barely managing to catch him. He sank to the ground, fighting to get the breathing and intubation slouch out of Charles' mouth, as gently as possible. Completely ignoring the warm fluid from the tank, seeping through at the knees of his pants.

"Why is he shaking so much, he's _flinching_ but he's not awake?!" Erik tried to hold onto Charles, but he was surprisingly hard to keep still.

"Erik, depending on for how long he's been in that tank, you touching him is overloading his physical senses, he's..." Emma stepped forward, put a finger against Charles' forehead and almost instantly, he stilled, though she did wince as if something wasn't right.

"What did you do?" Erik asked, pulling Charles close. He winced as the pain in his hand punished him for punching the wall earlier.

"I told his body to ignore those impulses. It won't last for long, but hopefully long enough for us to get out of here," Emma said.

"Where the hell are we going to go?" Erik asked, accepting the blanket Emma had found somewhere for him. He wrapped Charles carefully in it, lifting him up. He tried not to think about how light Charles was.

"Like Azazel said, the safe houses...," Emma began, giving him a surprised look.

"Westchester," Erik breathed out. If Charles was real, then maybe, just maybe, that damned mansion he'd kept 'waking up' in was too. Of course he'd hoped to find Charles awake and capable of actually _helping_ them.

"Erik, honey, Westchester is pretty big and Azazel's gonna need something more specific," Emma drawled.

"Can you pull anything from Charles' memories?" Erik asked. "Maybe enough to pinpoint the place?"

"One, we don't know if it's any safer than our own places," Emma said, "two, I'm not going back inside his head if I can help it," she continued with a shiver. "Erik, he's not just strong, he's beyond what I can do - the only reason my trick just worked? Was because he wasn't expecting it."

Erik tightened his hold on Charles and shook his head. Why could he not get a break?

"Come on, let's just get out of here," Emma said, not waiting for him to answer before she was out of the room.

With a sigh, Erik followed her.

Emma of course found Azazel easily enough, where he was waiting with Janos and ten kids varying in ages from ten to probably early twenties.

"We'll have to use the house in Zürich," Erik said with a sigh. "How secure is it currently?"

"Secure enough for a quick stop and getting the kids to where ever they want to go," Emma said. "But that's it."

There was a shout from the back, a blond, lanky kid pushing himself forward. "Charles!"

Erik held him back using the metal of a button, a zipper, a necklace.

"What...?" The kid glared at them. "Let go of me, you asshole." There was a soft sort of haze, like intense heat, coming off him.

"How do you know Charles?" Erik asked quietly. It probably was not the best place to start a fight. Certainly not the time, either.

"He's...," taking a deep breath, the kids opened his mouth to argue with him.

"He's a friend of your friend, Erik, let him go," Emma said. She turned to the blond. "We need a safe place to go, because Zürich is probably under surveillance and we'd have to move fast. Erik suggested Westchester, ring a bell, sugah?" she asked.

The kid just glared at them, mouth pressed into a thin line. However, he seemed to fight back his power.

"Look, Alex," Emma said and Erik did not miss the wince from the kid. "Impressive shielding, by the way," Emma continued, "but we really need to get out of here, get _everyone_ out of here."

"The question is if Westchester is safe - if you were taken from there..." Erik began.

"No, they took Charles and me in Chicago," Alex interrupted him. "Westchester should still be safe. Charles address is officially downtown Manhattan. There's little that connects him directly to the place."

"Smart thinking," Azazel said, giving Erik a questioning look.

Erik took a deep breath. He was beginning to see just how smart Charles actually was. "Kid... Alex," Erik amended when the kid shot him a less than impressed look. "Would you allow Emma to grab the location from your mind - we've got a teleporter," he gestured at Azazel, "and I'd really like for us to get out of here as soon as possible."

Alex shot first him, then Azazel a wary look. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and turned to Emma. "Okay, do it," he finally said, obviously steeling himself for the intrusion.

Smirking, Emma cocked her head to the side. "Stop fighting me," she muttered.

"Sorry," Alex said, visibly trying to relax, though not looking particularly contrite.

Her smirk only grew. "No you're not. He taught you very well."

Alex seemed to straighten a little at the praise.

"I've got the location," Emma finally said, turning to Azazel, who in turn acknowledged and held out his hands.

"Can you take all of us - including the children?" Erik asked. "I mean, if we're sure it's safe."

"There's a small clearing close to the house," Alex said quietly. "If we go there, we'll have full view of the house."

"We'll leave the kids there - Janos, you and Emma will stick with them, protect them," Erik ordered. "Azazel will take Alex, Charles and I into the house to check."

"You're not leaving you new friend with us?" Emma asked curiously.

Erik tightened his hold on Charles. He knew it made sense, but he did not want to let go of Charles.

"We should get Charles to the infirmary," Alex said. "Hank will know what to do."

"Can you take us directly - when we've left the group?" Erik asked.

Alex looked to Emma, then Azazel, nodding.

"What about the info they have on all of us, on the computers, not to mention in the file room?" Alex nodded toward a door off the side, marked as file room.

Erik grinned meanly and pulled his power tightly around him, before pushing it outward through the complex, like a tsunami of electromagnetic destruction. "Don't worry," he told Alex, knowing he probably looked like a raving maniac letting loose like that, "it's being taken care of as we speak." Many of the panels near them hissed and sparked. It felt fantastic letting go like that, after such a long time without having anything to unleash his powers on. He turned and gestured for Janos to take care of the file room. The door shook as a storm howled in the small space behind it.

This earned him a reluctant, but infinitely more respectful nod from Alex.

"I have the coordinates," Azazel said, when they had made sure nothing was left.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," Erik told them. Just for good measure, before he took Azazel's hand, he crunched every bit of metal in the machines around them.

\---

Getting into the mansion was... surprisingly anticlimactic. Not that Erik was complaining. It was a nice change after having had to constantly look over their shoulders for a long time.

Looking out through the large windows, Erik took a deep breath. The place had that same tranquil feel to it that he recalled from his dreams. HE hoped with everything that no one would disturb this, because even with all their differences of opinion when they had spoken, Erik could tell Charles was doing a good thing with the school.

He might have thought that Charles was leading the lamb to the slaughter, lulling the kids into a false security that the outside world did not hate them, fear them. That was, until he had actually talked to some of the kids.

None of them were stupid, and more than a few of them had come to Charles from less than ideal backgrounds for children. And much to his surprise, Erik had found that the children were not afraid of him, but were far more interested in what he could do, what he could teach them.

That had stopped Erik in his tracks. He was used to leading the Brotherhood against opposing forces, but here he was being asked, nicely and sincerely, for input, ideas.

And if he was surprised, he had to wonder how Emma was tackling it. She had seamlessly fallen into the role as teacher.

Erik had the secret thought that maybe, just maybe, she actually liked it.

He kept it to himself, very carefully, because he had not donned his helmet since he had had to rip it back off when he had realized that Charles was still somehow connected to him.

Charles.

Who was still in bed, still out like a light. McCoy had said it was not really a coma, but Charles seemed to not be waking up. Even Emma had had no luck penetrating whatever walls he had built around his mind.

It also drove Erik crazy that since they had arrived, three weeks earlier, he had not been allowed in Charles' room. Well, no one was barring his way, but he had not missed the look of warning that McCoy had shot him. Of course Erik was not afraid of the blue furred menace, but he deferred to him for his medical abilities and knowledge.

He had also been honest with Erik, when he had done a double take upon seeing the wheelchair in Charles' study. "Charles' spare one," Hank had said.

How amazing was it that the people who had taken Charles had managed to knock him unconscious and tried to condition him, soften him up by putting him in the tank without him waking up. Wanting to know what Charles knew about mutations and mutants in general. As a geneticist... they had had no idea what they had caught.

Their mistake, but Erik's salvation.

Three weeks and Erik was feeling a hell of a lot better as well. Thanks to fresh air, exercise, food. And not being on the run, of course. It had all been good for him and he could tell Janos and Azazel were enjoying themselves as well. He had walked in on Janos helping some of the smaller kids with their homework the other day.

He may never recover entirely from that sight. Erik allowed himself a smile. Of course, it was nothing compared to watching Azazel train some of the other students by teleporting all over the place, making a game of tag a hell of a lot more challenging.

Alex had been surprisingly welcoming once they had been safe inside the mansion. Erik had the feeling that Summers did not in general warm to people like that and the other took their cues from him, it seemed. Thankfully that had meant a warm welcome.

Darwin and Sean had been two of the other, well, adults, Erik conceded. Along with Charles' sister Raven, they had actually welcomed the Brotherhood with friendly interest and more than a little curiosity. Erik was still amused that Raven had been the one to recognize them and tell the others who they were and even that had not caused much of a ruckus. As much as Erik had expected people under Charles' tutelage to disagree with him on principle, he had found himself having more than one friendly debate since their arrival. And he knew it was much the same with Emma, and though she might not admit to it, Erik was sure she enjoyed it almost as much as he did.

Turning from the window, Erik went over to his bed, reluctant to go to sleep. He had shared no dreams with Charles since that last one the night before their rescue and he missed it. The few dreams he _had_ had were old ones, familiar to him in a way that while bad, he could handle them. Most of them tended to focus on Shaw's ideas of training Erik when he had been younger. There were worlds between Shaw's methods and how the children of the Xavier school were encouraged to learn control of their abilities, something that Erik could only approve of.

However, he was doing no one a favor by not sleeping. He had not missed the snide comments from Emma on occasion - so he was a bit of a bear when he was overworked, overstressed and had had no sleep.

Erik had hardly closed his eyes before he sat up in bed. The light of the room had an eerie feel to it. Outside, a storm was raging, which was a bit odd as the moon had been shining pale from a cloudless night sky when he had gone to sleep.

Walking the quiet hallways, Erik began wondering if he actually was awake. He came to the door of the library where he and Charles had played many games in their dreams. There was no one there, but the fire was crackling in the fireplace, a stark contrast to the storm outside.

"Charles?" Erik could not help himself. If he _was_ sleeping, maybe Charles was there too.

No one answered him.

Shaking his head, he gave the chess set in the corner a fond look before he turned and left the room again. Intend on returning to his own room. However, he stopped a few doors before that and stared at it.

Closing his eyes, he felt a little dizzy. Opened them again and blinked in surprise. He had been sleeping, he was sure about that, but now he was standing in the same hallway. It had lost its eerie feel, but he could not tear his eyes away from the door.

Charles' room.

Taking a deep breath, he slipped inside. Leaning back against the door after closing it again, he flicked his wrist, finding the switch for the bedside lamp. A soft light filled the room, casting shadows on the figure in the bed.

Erik slowly walked up to the bed, staring down at Charles.

Charles had, in his dreams, been wholesome and healthy. Cheeks flushed with the heat of debate, with laughter. Had walked.

This Charles was thinner, needed meat on his bones, needed to be taken care of.

_'Are you offering?'_

Erik looked back up at Charles face and found the startlingly blue eyes watching him. He had thought that color was simply enhanced by the dream world, but he had obviously been wrong.

Charles reached up a hand, a slight tremor to it. Erik took it, grasping it as tightly as he dared and sat down next to Charles.

"If you don't mind," Erik said, realizing that he meant it.

"Would I mind the Master of Magnetism himself in my house, at my side?" Charles asked with a soft smile on his face.

Erik did not miss the rush of warmth that curled around his mind. He had thought maybe Charles had not known.

"Oh, Erik," Charles said with a small laugh. "I've known all along who you were, but while Magneto needs to be one voice for mutant kind, Erik Lehnsherr needs a place where he can put his worries aside for a while."

Erik closed his eyes and smiled, feeling a hell of a lot lighter. "I think mutant kind needs your voice as well." He opened his eyes again, meeting Charles' gaze as his equal.

"Of course," Charles replied with a wink.

Erik nodded slowly. Maybe for now he could rest easily at night.

Charles chuckled and held up the sheets. "I should hope so, my friend."

Erik stared at the offering, stared at the space that Charles so easily yielded to him. In his dreams, Charles had been coy, a little shy, maybe, even. In real life... obviously less so.

"I've learned the hard way that life's a little too short for not taking a chance when it's offered," Charles said seriously.

Closing his eyes Erik took a deep breath and slipped into the bed. Curling up along Charles' side, feeling the heat from his body, he opened them again, looking at Charles face so close that he could almost count the eye lashes.

Charles cupped the side of his face and pressed his lips against Erik's forehead. "I'm glad you came for me."

"So am I," Erik replied, flicking the switch of the lamp again, letting the room sink into darkness. Thank you for keeping me sane, he thought, not quite ready to voice that just yet. Along with all the other things he wanted so desperately to tell Charles. Share with him. So all he could do was hold on tightly to Charles.

Charles may or may not have listened in on his thoughts, but he said nothing, simply tightened his arm around Erik, projecting the feeling of being safe within the darkness of the mansion.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be the first one to admit that prompt 1 (Wizard of Oz fusion) did nothing to inspire me. The second one reeked of angst and the third was... yeah, too easy *grins* - so I kept coming back to the 2nd prompt, trying to get it to fit with the fact that my recipient doesn't like heavy angst. Cue bending the prompt until the breaking point and crossing fingers that my dear recipient would like the outcome.
> 
> _Prompt: Erik and Charles are captured and put in the same cell with no light and left for months. They can still use their powers inside, but they can't use them on anything outside the cell. Fix!it, or they haven't met before, up to you. Whether Charles is crippled or not up to you, but if he is, he's dependent on Erik for everything because the cell isn't designed for disabilities and he doesn't have his wheelchair. Would like them to be falling in love and working out their differences, and Charles using illusions to help preserve their sanity._


End file.
